


Snow

by carrionqueen (nightquill)



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Non-Sexual Intimacy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2014-12-20
Packaged: 2018-03-02 10:22:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2808950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightquill/pseuds/carrionqueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a tender moment. for tumblr user mahariels.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snow

her hands tremble. small flakes catch in her lashes, her bottom lip quivering as she shudders in the breeze. but she is stoic, refuses to move her feet out of the snow, bare though they are, refuses to take the cloaks that are being offered. her eyes are on the scar in the sky. she rubs her bare forearms absently, sleeves pushed up above her elbows, so pensive and focused that he cannot help but smile. his fingers brush his lips involuntarily, corners of his mouth quirking, sunset pink coming unbidden to the apples of his cheeks. he can feel the heat spread to his ears. it does not often snow in skyhold.

she doesn't see him, not yet - her eyes, still, are fixed on the flickering scar in the sky, that _curse_ , and the mark on her palm lights absently. the green lights her sickly, but she is beautiful. he feels fists of ice clench in his gut. _no. you are a fool._ in defiance, he goes to her, his own bare toes tingling as the snow bites into them. she does not hear him. as an afterthought, he removes the fur that is draped across his body, shakes it loose, wraps her in it - she starts, bright eyes snapping, a gasp as light as a breeze.

"you scared me," it's almost a whisper, almost an accusation, but she does not refuse the fur as it brushes against her cheeks, promising warmth. her fingers close about it and pull it tight to her shoulders. solas smiles. she turns to him.

"i am sorry. i did not mean to sneak," he is almost apologetic. her cheeks are flushed in the cold and he can think of nothing but kissing them, pressing his lips to each swept cheekbone, once on her icy nose, once on her lips - but he does nothing of the sort, standing just beyond her orbit.

she reaches for him, though, the small fingers of her free hand grazing his belly, clutching at his shirt as she draws herself close to him. "it's cold," she explains, but it's a weak thing, an anxious pre-apology as she slips her hands inside his vest, either side of his body. it's not quite an embrace. he can feel himself tingling where her hands have traced, like she'd spread lightning across his body, like she were a ghost passing through him. tenderly, he draws her in.

"it is. you should wear something warmer, lethallan," his arms gather her up. skyhold rolls on around them. girls rush by with bundles of swords in their arms, and lads with blankets or wheat or paperwork in little rawhide tubes; bright eyed recruits drill with their weapons; anxious healers, their hands bloody to the elbow, dart hither and thither; a stable boy with a purchase order from the farrier argues nervously with threnn, the stern requisitions officer; a lost nug, scurrying from tent to tent, seeks shade or warmth or whatever it is that nugs seek. it could be any fortress in any century, any faction, anywhere in any world, and to all of these people - even if just for a moment - they are invisible. solas savors it. the warmth spreads between them both, and she softens against him, arms slipping fully about his waist, her head resting against his chest.

"i don't know if i ever thanked you, solas," she is not speaking quietly but there are layers of fur between them, and she does not turn her head. he feels her voice in his chest before he can decipher it and by then he is barely listening - the rumble of her words as they buzz in his bones thrills him to the core, his stomach leaping, his heart sinking as that icy fist knocks on the inside of his ribcage, an unwelcome warning.

"for what?" he finally replies, cups her jaw, tilts her head, "i cannot hear you with your face buried in there," he explains, but she is smiling, and it's like the sun tearing through the clouds, and he's so _furious_ with himself --

"for saving my life, after the explosion. after i got this," she _flexes_ the mark, and he feels it spark against his back.

"how could i not?" he asks, and his question is genuine. she was what they needed. she was a tool. she was their answer. _she was his answer._ but she laughs, thinks it a flirtation, buries her face into the crook of his neck, the icy tip of her nose against the heat of his throat. "for what it's worth, i am glad i did. you... are a rare woman,"

she lays her hands either side of his face - warm, fresh from the small of his back - and looks into his eyes. it's intoxicating. it's a serious problem. he tries not to frown. "is that why you kissed me?" she asks, eyes dancing, chin tilted,  _daring --_

"you kissed me, if i recall,"

and she is laughing again, light like a bell, snow caught in her hair and on the fur about her collar. "for what it's worth, i'm glad i did."


End file.
